


This is my life and I call it a song

by voices_in_my_head



Series: I always wondered how far we could go if we could break through the ceiling above us [1]
Category: DCU, Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, actually is it a rare pair if there is literally no other content for it?, blame this wildness on the quarantine, discussion on the picture of dorian gray because Jason would have thoughts on it, lots of swearing, rare pairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:14:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23932132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voices_in_my_head/pseuds/voices_in_my_head
Summary: "Jason shrugs, “I’m new in town and you seem interesting.”The guy smiles – amused – before asking, “are you hitting on me?”It’s Jason’s turn to raise an eyebrow, “and if I am?”The guy doesn’t answer right away, looking him up and down. Jason doesn’t even feel the itch to fidget; he’s handled looks from way worse people."
Relationships: Juice Ortiz/Jason Todd
Series: I always wondered how far we could go if we could break through the ceiling above us [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1726456
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	This is my life and I call it a song

**Author's Note:**

> This one... I'm absolutely blaming on the quarantine. Because without it, I wouldn't be rewatching SoA and remembering how much I liked Juice and how he deserved better, which then lead to thinking, "oh man, Jason Todd would love him. And he'd love him too" and then I mentally started writing that fic, and then decided I might as well do it on paper too and so now here we are.
> 
> Yeah... to everyone willing to give this wild and unexpected rare pair a shot, thanks, and hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Pretty much canon compliant with S1 and 2 of SoA, though there's a break between the Zobelle plotline and the Irish one. As for DC... It's a mix of comic canon and the film "Under the Red Hood". It's all pretty easy to follow, I think.

Jason is having breakfast at a little diner off the highway when the guy comes in. He’s tall, though not as tall as Jason, is wearing a dark leather vest on top of a black t-shirt, baggy pants and combat boots and, most obvious, has a mohawk with tribal tattoos on either side. He has some tattoos on his arms too, some kind of reaper.

Jason smiles. He can’t decide whether he wants to punch the guy, or climb him like a tree.

The guy goes up to the counter and smiles to the waitress. It’s a nice smile; doesn’t scream “psychotic murderer” at all.

“Hey, Pat,” he says, voice soft but also raspy; he must he must smoke a pack every couple of days, if not more.

“Hey, Juice,” the old lady says. “The usual?”

“Yeah, thanks,” the guy nods and turns to go sit. His eyes stop on Jason for a few seconds – clearly enjoying the show – but move on quickly.

Jason has the most secure spot; the corner table, turned to the door. The only way he could get hit is through the windows but he thinks the chances of that are slim.

The guy sits two tables from Jason, also against the window, turned to the door. He takes out of a pack of cigarettes from a pocket in his pants, takes out one and then just plays with it against the table, the end softly hitting it every second.

Jason decides he’s bored enough to want to find out more about the guy, so he gets up, grabs his plate – only one pancake left, though he’s pondering ordering more – and his cup of coffee and makes his way to the guy.

“Mind if I sit?” He asks. From up close, he can read the words on the left side of the vest: Redwood Original.

The guy stops playing with the cigarette and raises an eyebrow.

“Why?”

Jason shrugs, “I’m new in town and you seem interesting.”

The guy smiles – amused – before asking, “are you hitting on me?”

It’s Jason’s turn to raise an eyebrow, “and if I am?”

The guy doesn’t answer right away, looking him up and down. Jason doesn’t even feel the itch to fidget; he’s handled looks from way worse people.

The guy raises a hand, waving it towards the place in front of him, though he doesn’t say anything.

Jason nods and put his things down, sitting down afterwards. From up close, he can see the guy’s tattoos better. It is a reaper on his left forearm, and a big skull on the other. Jason offers his hand for a shake, “I’m Jason.”

The guy doesn’t hesitate to give him a firm, though not too strong, shake. “Juice.”

Jason can’t help it – he raises both eyebrows. “Juice, really?”

The guy – Juice, apparently – doesn’t get offended. He just laughs, “yeah.”

“Must be some interesting story,” Jason says, clearly fishing, and takes a bite from his pancake; it’s gone cold.

Juice smiles; it’s relaxed, neither too big nor too small. He’s clearly used to smiling, to feeling content. Jason kind of wants to find a way to bottle that up.

“Not really, I was a small kid, so people kept telling me to drink some orange juice.”

Jason can’t help it; he smiles at that. It’s small and fast, but there. It doesn’t go unseen, if the way Juice’s eyes turn down to follow the movement is anything to go by. Just for the sake of it, Jason licks his upper lip. It feels good, the way Juice’s pupils contract at it.

“I guess it could be worse. They could have told you to eat broccoli instead.”

Juice laughs again, but before he can respond, the waitress – Pat – comes by with his food. Sausages, scrambled eggs, some toast and an orange juice. Jason raises an eyebrow at that.

“Hey, I never said they hadn’t been right,” Juice says, in a light tone.

They eat in silence for a while. Jason, having started before, finishes his plate first.

“The pancakes are good here,” Juice says and Jason nods, but now that the first conversation is over, he doesn’t know why he followed his urge to come sit by a stranger. “So, you’re new here?”

Jason nods. “Yeah, I’m starting classes at Berkeley in a week.”

“That’s still some commute.”

Jason shrugs, “I like the ride.”

“Yeah?” Juice turns to the windows, clearly looking for Jason’s motorcycle. Jason follows his eyes too; it’s easy to find, a red Ducati. Not too far away is a Harley Davidson.

“That yours?” Jason asks, turning back to Juice, who nods. “A bit of a beast.”

Juice laughs at that, “you should see the rest.”

Jason raises an eyebrow, “you have others?”

“Nah,” Juice shakes his head, “I just meant the rest of the guys.” He points at the patch in his vest, “Sons of Anarchy.”

Jason had already figured that one out. He knows about them; he did a thorough check on Charming before moving. For a gun-running gang, they could be worse. ‘Doesn’t mean Jason didn’t have to fight the urge to just wipe them off the face of the earth when he first moved in, but he knows that then he’d have to kill all the other gangs around too, from the Mayans to the Niners, not forgetting the charming Nords, because they’d start pointing fingers. And then innocents would be killed. He’s willing to let this one go, though he’s still keeping an eye on things.

“What’s that like?” Jason asks, after he’s been silent a bit too long. “Being part of a motorcycle club?”

Juice smiles; it doesn’t seem to have crossed his mind that Jason could be an undercover cop or something. “It’s good. Like a family.”

A family that sells guns. Cute.

“I haven’t been patched up for long,” Juice continues and Jason raises an eyebrow.

“What’s that mean?” He doesn’t actually know all that much about motorcycle clubs. As far as he cares, they’re just gangs that ride in motorcycles instead of cars.

“You don’t just enter the club as a member. You gotta prospect first. I did for a bit over a year before they voted me in.”

“Yeah? What does a prospect do?”

Juice twitches his nose. It’s cute. “Everything everyone else doesn’t want to do. Mostly, I cleaned the clubhouse, did errands…” he shrugs, “did some security work too. I’m good with computers.”

For just a second, Jason isn’t at the diner anymore, but back in Gotham, back from the dead, ready to clean house, and finding out about Oracle. He forces himself back to the moment; he doubts Juice is anywhere near as good as Barbara with a computer, anyhow.

“Were you born here?” Jason asks, changing the subject, though he’s not all that sure why. It’s not like he’d mind hearing more about the club. He guesses he’s just not used to having a normal conversation anymore – if he ever was.

“Nah,” Juice shakes his head, “I’m from Queens. You?”

“Gotham,” he answers, having to force the words out from his throat.

Juice raises an eyebrow, “really? ‘Never met a Gothamite before.”

Jason shrugs, “I guess we prefer to keep to our ‘hood.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, just studies Jason in silence. It’s not scary at all; hell, not even all that judging, which in itself is a new feeling. Juice doesn’t look at Jason likes he’s a puzzle to figure out or like he wants to find out all his secrets. No, he just looks curious.

“Why move so far away?”

“Why did you?” Jason fires back and Juice smiles. This time, it really is a big smile, showing off dimples, and just a bit cocky.

He leans forward, like he’s sharing some secret, “I got into some trouble. ‘Would be a dead man if I stayed.”

Jason almost laughs. Their situations are kind of two sides of the same coin, aren’t they? Juice would be dead if he stayed; Jason would have killed a lot more people if he hadn’t left.

Juice doesn’t ask a second time why he left and Jason doesn’t think it’s because he’s any less curious, but because he’s being… thoughtful. Doesn’t want to accidentally upset Jason. It figures; the first outlaw he meets in Charming and he’s actually not the scum of the earth.

Juice finishes eating in silence. Jason has only drunk half his coffee but it’s gone cold, so he leaves it be.

“So,” Juice asks and he has that cocky smile on his face, but this time it feels a bit forced. “Were you hitting on me? When you asked to sit down?”

Jason leans forward, giving a smile of his own. Maybe a bit more predatory than the situation warrants, but he doesn’t see Juice back down. “Why, you interested?”

Juice gulps, but doesn’t say anything. Jason doesn’t know if it’s because this is in fact a new situation for him – though he’s clearly interested – or if he’s just… afraid. Of rejection, of something else.

“I’m guessing no one in the MC will be going to Pride anytime soon,” he offers.

Juice shrugs, “as long as it’s not in their faces, I don’t think they care.” He twitches his nose again, “believe me, there’s far worse things some of the guys have done than someone of the same gender.” He doesn’t look so much disgusted as he looks surprised, maybe a bit scarred.

Jason laughs.

“Alright,” he leans forward, “let’s say I am interested. What do you wanna do about it?”

Juice studies him for a couple more seconds, before smiling. “Let me take you out.”

That surprises Jason. He’d been expecting an outright refusal or something along the lines of _“my place or yours?”_ A date… he’s never actually been on a date. He’s slept with a couple people, sure, but going out, doing something just for fun with someone else, to get to know them?

Juice doesn’t stop him from his thinking, just lets him do it in silence. Juice is… he’s different from what Jason expected, maybe, but he isn’t… He isn’t like the most interesting person ever. He joined a motorcycle club because he clearly has some abandonment issues and Jason expects that will one day bite him in the ass, that feeling of dependency. But he’s also interested and, in the end, what’s the worst that could happen?

“Yeah, alright. What do you have in mind?”

Juice shrugs, “it’s been a while since I’ve cooked for someone else.”

Jason laughs, “that’s presumptuous of you, isn’t it? Having a first date at your place?”

“Don’t worry,” he smiles, dimples out again, “I don’t mind waiting until the third date.”

Jason keeps the smile on his face. It feels good, being wanted.

“Alright,” he says. He’s not really worried about putting out or not; if it happens, it happens, if it doesn’t, it doesn’t.

Juice takes out his mobile phone, passing it to Jason, “put your number in and I’ll send you the address. I’m busy the next couple of days, but how about Sunday night? 8 PM?”

Jason takes the phone and does as requested. He nods, “yeah, sounds good.”

“Alright,” Juice smiles, “’see you then.”

Jason nods and then gets up. He pays for his meal at the counter and then leaves the diner. Outside, just before putting on his helmet, he looks back inside. Juice is staring back at him. Jason waves, puts on his helmet, gets on his bike and then rides away.

He feels good. Maybe he doesn’t need to bottle the feeling; maybe just being around Juice is enough. He can see how it could be addictive. But he squishes whatever fear he feels at that thought; he’s out of Gotham, away from the Bats and Talia – no matter how good she was to him once upon a time – and it’s time for him to live his life, the way he wants it to.

A date with a good-looking guy seems just like the perfect first step.

.

Jason doesn’t really do much in the time between first meeting Juice and their date. He thinks of finding a job, but he still has enough money from the criminals he stole it from to not have to worry for a very long time. He’ll probably get one, anyway, when he gets bored, but for now, he’s alright with spending his time reading and catching up on several years worth of TV shows.

Finally, Sunday comes around and Jason goes to Juice’s place. He’d already done a fast search into all the Sons of Anarchy members when he first rolled into town, but he did a more thorough one on Juice before their date. It feels a bit creepy and controlling – reminds him of someone – but as far as he’s concerned, better to be paranoid than dead.

Juice, real name Juan Carlos Ortiz, doesn’t really have anything to hide. He spent a few years in juvie and more than a couple nights in prison, but he’s never done hard time. As far as Jason can tell, he’s never killed anyone, though his hands certainly aren’t clean.

Still, Jason probably can’t be throwing stones on those grounds. He doesn’t want to be pondering on whether all the men he killed deserved it – some were real scumbags and his only regret is not making it slower – but others were probably just following orders. Not like life was easy in Gotham.

Yet, that’s exactly what he’s thinking about. On how the world really isn’t all that black and white.

Some things are, though. Just thinking about the Joker, about Bruce letting him live…

Jason passes a hand through his neck, where a small scar lives, forcing himself to let go of that thought. He pushes the doorbell on Juice’s one story house; it doesn’t look all that different from the place Jason is renting.

It doesn’t take long for Juice to open the door.

“Hey,” he smiles, softly. He’s still wearing baggy pants, though this time they’re sweatpants and he has on combat boots, but there’s no vest in sight, just a white t-shirt. Jason himself has jeans on, boots, a black shirt and a red leather jacket.

“Hey,” Jason replies, also in a soft tone. Just being here, around Juice… It makes him feel good. He offers the bag he’s carrying, “’didn’t know if you were making fish or meat, so I brought a white and a red wine.”

“There’s a difference?” Juice asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, you philistine,” Jason replies and Juice rolls his eyes. Still, he takes the bag and moves aside so Jason can go in.

“What are you studying again?”

“I never told you in the first place,” Jason answers, turning back to Juice once he’s inside, who closes the door. “I’m majoring in English.”

Juice shakes his head, “should have known.”

“That good or bad?” Jason asks.

Juice smiles, “I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

It’s Jason’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Come on,” Juice says, moving past him, patting him on the shoulder, “kitchen’s this way.”

The corridor is pretty small, almost immediately giving way to the living room, where there’s a small round table already set for dinner, four chairs around it.

There’s only one long counter dividing the living room from the kitchen. Everything is pretty tidy.

“So, what did you make?” Jason asks, once Juice is checking something on the stove, Jason leaning on the counter, arms crossed, one ankle crossed over the other.

“Puerto Rican arroz con gandules,” Juice tells him, turning his head to him with a smile.

“Your Spanish accent actually hurts to hear,” Jason says and Juice shrugs.

“I’m from Queens. I speak better Yiddish than Spanish.”

“Yeah? Vi gut?” Jason fires back in Yiddish. It’s not a language he knows all that well, just enough to get by, but he can’t help himself.

Juice looks surprised at him, then laughs, heartedly. “Are you trying to outdo me?”

Jason shrugs, “in languages, it’s not hard.”

“Yeah?” Juice raises an eyebrow, “how many do you speak?”

“English, Spanish, French, German, Arabic and Russian fluently. Medium Mandarin, Japanese and Portuguese. I just picked Yiddish up from German.”

Juice blinks at him, “how the hell did some twenty-year old learn that many languages?”

Jason opens his mouth, ready with a quip, but halfway through changes tactics, decides to be honest; at least a bit. “I got adopted by a rich guy when I was twelve,” he shrugs, “the world was my oyster and I liked languages.”

Juice raises both eyebrows, “guy must have been really rich.”

“Oh, yeah,” understatement of the century. But Bruce isn’t something he wants to focus on, so he changes the subject, not all that subtly, but Juice doesn’t seem to mind. “So, no Spanish, but Puerto Rican cuisine?”

Juice leans on the counter. He looks… not sad, but thoughtful. “Yeah. My mom didn’t teach me; she left Puerto Rico as a kid and never really looked back. But it’s just…” he shrugs, “I don’t know. I’m too brown to be white and too white to be brown. It felt like taking some of it back, you know?”

Jason nods, even though it’s not a situation he’s personally gone through.

“It helps that Puerto Rican food is delicious.”

“You ever been?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, actually. Just after I turned twenty-one,” he shakes his head, as if at himself, “’don’t remember all that much. Between the booze and the drugs…” he shrugs, then smiles at Jason, kind of self-conscious. “Sometimes I party a bit too hard.”

Jason nods again, even though it’s another unknown situation to him. He’s never even gotten fully drunk. Buzzed, sure, but full on, don’t remember a thing the next day, drunk? No. He sure as hell doesn’t trust other people to do it around anyone else, and by himself… The paranoia of suddenly being attacked and needing to be at one hundred percent just never let him do it.

“Come on, let’s eat,” Juice says and with oven mitts, takes the pot in the stove to the table in the living room. “By the way, this is meat. Should it be the red or the white wine?”

“Red. The white should be cold, anyway.”

Juice rolls his eyes as he goes to the kitchen, though he’s smiling. “For someone who eats pancakes for a couple dollars at a diner in the middle of nowhere, you’re a snob.”

Jason shrugs, sitting down. “Like I said, adopted by a rich guy.”

Juice comes back with the red wine in one hand, frowning. “I don’t actually have anything to take the cork off with.”

Jason laughs and Juice’s frown depends. “What? I’m not a wine guy.”

Jason shakes his head, “it’s fine. Water’s good with me.”

Juice rolls his eyes, “water, are you serious? I’ve got some beer.”

Jason shrugs, “yeah, alright.” He was already planning on having some of the wine; beer has an even lower alcohol percentage. It’s cool with him.

“Here,” Juice puts a bottle, already open, by Jason’s glass. He sits down in front of Jason and takes a sip straight from his own bottle. “How was your week?”

Jason shrugs, “I’ve been doing some reading.”

“Trying to get ahead of your classes?”

Jason shrugs again, “something like that. Actually, I…” He stops.

“What?” Juice asks, having grabbed Jason’s plate to put some food in it.

“I’ve been thinking about getting some quotes tattooed.”

“Yeah? You decide on anything?”

“I keep thinking about Shakespeare’s “these violent delights have violent ends.” When I first read “Romeo and Juliet” I kept copying that sentence onto notebooks. I don’t know why, it just seemed so… obvious, but also unescapable,” he looks at Juice, who’s just staring back. Then he laughs, “then again, I also keep thinking about “what are men to rocks and mountains,” so who knows.”

“I swear I’ve heard that before,” Juice says, giving Jason his plate back, full with a good serving. He moves on to his own.

“It’s from Jane Austen’s _Pride and Prejudice_.”

“I’ve seen the film,” Juice says, putting down his plate. “I don’t read that much. I don’t like silences, you know? But if I try and read with music on, then I can’t concentrate on what I’m reading.”

“Fair enough. Though the film gave the quote to one of Elizabeth’s sisters, when it was actually Elizabeth who said it in the book.”

Juice laughs, “you’re a nerd.”

Jason smiles, but before he can say anything in response, Juice continues, “though you’re hotter than any nerd I’ve met before.”

“Sorry I don’t wear glasses and left my pimple days in my sweet sixteen.”

Juice smiles, cocky, “don’t worry, I’m definitely not complaining.”

Jason, for the first time in who knows how long, feels himself blushing. Juice, fully aware of what he did, smiles like the cat who got the canary.

It doesn’t actually bother Jason. The way Juice is acting kind of smug because he made Jason embarrassed. It just shows how he’s paying attention, how he’s trying.

Jason finally takes a bite of the food. “It’s good.”

“Thanks,” Juice says, smiling softly and Jason doesn’t even try to stop the words from getting out of his mouth.

“How’d you get involved in a motorcycle club? You seem way too sweet for them.”

“Anyone can be a motorcycle enthusiast.”

“Come on, pull the other one. I might be new around here, but you hear enough stories around town. I don’t know what the Sons are involved in,” well, that’s a lie, “but it’s definitely not all legal.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away. He finishes chewing and swallowing his bite. Then he takes a sip from his beer.

“I know you can’t tell me what you do and I’m not fishing.”

“No, I just… I don’t want to lie to you.”

Jason raises both eyebrows, surprised, “I’m not your husband. It’s not like you’ve made some oath to be truthful to me.”

“No, I know, I just… I’m not a big fan of lying, in general. And you… Can I be honest with you?”

“’Course.”

“When you asked to sit by my table, you said I seemed interesting.”

Jason smiles, “are you fishing for compliments? ‘Cuz I can tell you you also looked badass and handsome-”

Juice laughs, “no, I’m not fishing. I just meant… Maybe I did seem interesting but I think you saw something else in me. Something you recognized.”

“What?” Jason asks and it feels like he has lead in his stomach. There’s a lot he can imagine Juice saying, mostly about the blood on his hands. But what he does say, comes as a total surprise. And feels like being punched in the stomach.

“Loneliness.”

Jason doesn’t say anything right away. He makes a fist with his right hand, then forces himself to relax. Juice keeps eating, silently, letting him think things through.

Finally, Jason laughs, bitterly, staring down at the table. “Guess it was that obvious, uh? Sitting down by a total stranger.”

“Hey,” Juice calls, only continuing when Jason raises his head to look him in the eyes, “I said it was a feeling you recognized in me, didn’t I? I mean… I finally have what I’ve always wanted, a brotherhood, but it’s still… It’s not enough. I don’t know what more I want.”

“Love,” Jason replies, without thinking, and then bites on his tongue. Is that what he wants? Love?

“Maybe,” Juice seems to ponder on it. “But I think the thing with the other Sons is… you’re not picked to be loved, you know? You’re picked by your abilities, by what you can bring to the club. And yeah, eventually love does grow between you and your brothers, but… I guess I just want to be loved for who I am, not what I can do.”

And that… that hits a bit too close to home to Jason. He almost says _“I had that once,”_ remembers being a kid with Alfred and Bruce, how they just wanted him to do well in school, to be safe, how they never asked for anything in exchange of their love and attention.

And then he remembers how it all ended up. With him six feet underground, killed with a crowbar, and his murderer out on the street.

“Yeah,” is what he says instead.

Juice laughs, and it actually sounds nice. “That’s some hard shit for the first date.”

“Yeah,” Jason repeats himself, then smiles, “we can discuss politics next time.”

Juice smiles, “yeah?”

It takes a second for Jason to figure out what the smile is for. He said _“next time.”_ And yeah, he’d like there to be a second date. Not because he’s lonely, or at least, not just that, but because he genuinely likes Juice. The too sweet guy who joined a gang to find a family.

Jason kind of wants to keep him safe.

“Yeah,” he answers and Juice smiles.

“Good.”

Jason smiles back and goes back to eating. Not only is he feeling content with his move to Charming, but like a weight has lifted from his back. He feels… hopeful. For this new chapter in his life, and like he’s finally closing the one behind him.

It feels good.

.

Jason spends the next few days just riding around. It’s not like he’d ever had a chance to be in California before and, anyhow, he still hasn’t gotten fully used to having a permanent place to go back to.

After Gotham… he’d spent several months just travelling around. Finally, he’d forced himself to sit somewhere for a few hours and really think on what the fuck he wanted to do with his life.

The next day he went and got some state-of-the-art new papers and a few days later he’d sent his application to a few universities across the country.

On Thursday, he and Juice meet for breakfast at the diner they’d first met, since Juice was busy for most of the day. As the time for classes to start came nearer, Jason was feeling more excited. But it was also bringing back long forgotten memories from his first week at Gotham Academy, after weeks of home-schooling to prep him.

Jason refuses to dwell on that. On going to buy the uniform with Alfred, the books with Bruce, the late nights being helped with a school project… No, he’s not thinking about that.

“Hey,” Juice says as he dismounts his bike and Jason smiles, going to him and putting a hand on his lower back and slowly approaching his face, so that he knows what’s coming. Juice just keeps smiling as he kisses him.

They’d already kissed on Sunday and it had been good. Exploratory and they’d kept the action above the waist. Still, kissing him again feels more comfortable than it probably should.

“Good morning,” Juice says when Jason steps back, still smiling. Being with Juice, it’s easy to keep away all the unwanted thoughts.

“How’s the week going?” Jason asks as they go inside, not touching. They’d parked the motorcycles by the side of the building, so there hadn’t really been any witnesses to their kiss. Jason knows they should probably talk about PDA; just how open Juice wants to be. The thought makes him smile but also half scared, that he’s already thinking of the future.

“Slow,” Juice shrugs as they sit down, each on their side, “there hasn’t been much going on. Though Gemma – she’s the co-owner of Teller-Morrow – has been preparing for Ope’s homecoming. He’s one of the Sons, been in prison for the past five years. I haven’t actually met him yet,” he explains.

“He been with the Sons for a long time?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s his legacy.” Before Juice can explain what that means, Pat comes by to get their orders.

“Good morning, boys. What can I get you?”

“Pancakes for me. And some coffee,” Jason requests.

“Same,” Juice asks and Pat nods along before going to give their order to the cook.

“You said something about him being a legacy?”

“Yeah, his dad, Piney, he’s one of the original nine members who built the first Sons of Anarchy charter, back in ’67.”

“How many charters are there now?”

“Over forty,” Juice says and Jason’s eyebrows raise in surprise.

“Shit, that’s a lot. And Charming’s the original one?”

Juice nods.

“You must feel pretty proud. Being part of the mother chapter.”

“Yeah,” Juice smiles, “it’s pretty cool. A bit insane too, you know?” He shrugs, “I dunno, it’s just different from Queens.”

Before Jason can reply, Pat comes by with their coffees.

“The pancakes will be right out,” she says.

“Thanks,” Juice says and then she’s gone again.

“You been coming here a long time?”

Juice nods, “yeah, ever since I first moved here. About four years now. I pretty much met the Sons right away, though it took at least half a year before I convinced them to let me prospect.”

“Do you have any prospects right now?”

“Yeah. I mean, the club does. He’s good; if he hangs around for a few more months… Should get patched in,” Juice laughs, at a seemingly inside joke. He decides to share it, “his name’s Half-Sack. He lost a testicle while serving.”

Jason laughs, “yeah?”

“Yeah, he has no shame in showing it off.”

Jason keeps laughing. Pat brings their pancakes by and they start eating in silence, though it’s comfortable.

“So, have you decided on a tattoo?” Juice asks, curiously.

Jason shakes his head, “nah, but I’ve been looking at Oscar Wilde.”

“He wrote that book where the painting gets old so the guy doesn’t have to, right?”

“Yeah,” Jason nods, “though I prefer his plays. They’re quite ironic. I keep thinking about “to define is to limit” but also “we are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars”.” He doesn’t tell him about the death quote in _The Canterville Ghost_ , the one that had almost made him ruin a book for the first time in his life.

The one that called death beautiful, that talked about lying in the soft brown earth, where you forgot time, forgave life and were at peace. Except that’s not what death is to Jason. What it was. It wasn’t beautiful and he ended up having to dig himself out of his grave. He did forget time but it wasn’t peaceful at all and as for forgiving life… No, life should beg his forgiveness, not the other way around.

“What’s “to define is to limit” about?”

“It’s a conversation in _The Portrait of Dorian Gray_ , between a Duchess and Henry, who… likes to be the smartest guy in the room, I guess. Their conversation is a bit like a badminton match. She fires questions and he answers just as quickly. He says that decay fascinates him more so she asks him about art, love, religion and after calling him a skeptic, asks him what he is. And that’s when he says-”

“To define is to limit,” Juice says and Jason smiles.

“Yeah, exactly.”

Juice ponders on that. “It’s a good quote.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, drinking some coffee and trying to put his thoughts into words. Deciding just how much he wants to share. “And it’s true, isn’t it? Once you decide to do something definitive, or people decide just who you are… your options are limited.”

Juice nods, taking his own sip from his coffee. “I like the one about the stars too, but I don’t know if I agree with the gutter part. Obviously, literally it’s not true, but even figuratively… I think some people are in better places. But maybe the people I think are not in a gutter, think the same about me.”

Jason doesn’t reply right away. He’d never thought about it that way. If living in Gotham had taught him anything – from the streets to the high class – it was that yes, everyone was in the gutter. Some gutters were just prettier than others.

He repeats what Juice said inside his own head. _But maybe the people I think are not in a gutter, think the same about me._

He wants to ask him why he thinks he’s in a gutter, but figures that’s a bit too personal for a second date. So he just shrugs.

“I have time to decide,” Juice nods and they eat for some seconds in silence. “You have a lot of ink. Which one was your first?”

“The ones in my head.”

“You jumped straight into it?” Jason asks, amusedly.

“Yeah, I thought it’d made me more badass or something.”

“And did it?”

“Well, old white ladies definitely thought so.”

Jason laughs.

“Then I got the ones on my right arm, and then the one for the Sons.”

“Everyone has that one, right?”

Juice nods, “yeah, but some got them like… giant. Jax’s covers pretty much his whole back. He’s also a legacy. Not only was his old man one of the first nine, but so is his step-dad. He’s the vice-president now.”

“Do you have any on your back?”

“Nah, not yet. I want something big, you know? But I’m still deciding.”

“I guess they’re pretty permanent.”

“Yeah, I like that, you know? Having a bodily reminder of… who you are, I guess.”

Suddenly Jason remembers being sixteen – just a few weeks before his death – and saying he wanted a tattoo. Bruce had told him that it was too dangerous to have one. What if someone saw it when he was Robin and then when he was Jason and made the connection? Jason had been forced to see the logic in that. He can’t even remember what he’d wanted to tattoo. Probably something sentimental, like a robin.

“You know, after Henry says “to define is to limit” the Duchess badgers him for a clue. So he says “threads snap. You would lose your way in the labyrinth.” I keep thinking about that too.”

“Yeah? Do you feel lost a lot?” Juice asks and he doesn’t sound judgmental at all. It’s probably the only reason Jason doesn’t shut off the conversation right away.

“I came all the way to California from Gotham. What do you think?”

Juice shrugs, “and I’m from Queens, not all that far away. I don’t judge, man.”

Jason exhales noisily. “I didn’t run away. I just…” He frowns, “I guess I did feel lost. Like I didn’t know who I was anymore.” And isn’t that the understatement of the century.

“How do you feel now?”

That’s a good question. Jason doesn’t have to think all that hard to answer, “like I can breathe for the first time in years.”

“I don’t think you’d lose yourself in any labyrinth. And even if you do,” Juice shrugs, “you’ll find yourself again.”

Jason smiles, “thanks.”

“No problem. You know, you seem to know that book pretty well. You sure you need that degree?”

Jason’s smile softens, “I never thought I’d get to go to college, you know? Deadbeat dad, in prison when I was a kid, junkie mom dead not long after… Before I got adopted, I was living on the streets. I hadn’t even gone to school in years. So going to college… I guess I am finding myself again, like you said. Remembering the dreams I used to have as a kid.”

“That’s pretty cool,” Juice says, honestly and Jason’s smile brightens. Again, he thinks on how Juice makes him feel light, in a way he’s not used to anymore. Maybe never was.

Juice isn’t perfect and Jason can’t figure out just how much is naivety about being in a gun-running club and how much is a willingness to ignore all the bad in favor of the good but he’s glad he met him.

.

Things continue on that vein for a while. Jason and Juice meet up at least two, three times a week, start calling and texting when they’re not together. Juice pretty much ruins his credit sending him text after text at Ope’s homecoming party, clearing intoxicated. The texts range from how the guy looks like he could break someone in half – and it’s not like Juice is a small guy – to walking in on Tig getting head, who’d told him to come back when he had a good pair of tits if he wanted to join.

Juice was an unexpected part in Jason’s new life. He still wasn’t one hundred percent how to feel about him, or them. Or hell, even the fact that there was a them.

Jason has never been in a relationship before. He’d had one-night stands after he came back from the dead but that had been about it. He’s never even really thought of romance, on whether that was something he wanted or not.

But he is enjoying spending time with Juice and as classes finally started, he liked having someone to call and talk about what he’d learnt and the way Juice always seemed interested and asked genuine questions.

He did talk to his course mates, the few that, like him, weren’t fresh out of high school. The eighteen-year old’s… There was something kind of innocent about them; most of them had never been away from their families for an extended period of time, were still trying to find out just how much independence they had. Jason liked them well enough, but hearing them talk sometimes just made him feel like he didn’t belong.

So he spent time with the people who, like him, had already done other stuff with their lives before deciding to go to college. Of course, their experiences weren’t the same, but at least spending time with them didn’t make Jason feel like he was at a wrong place.

That night, Wednesday, he’s making dinner for Juice at his place. Like Juice’s place, and most of the houses in Charming, really, it’s a one-story building. Small kitchen, living room that served as a dining room as well, then one bedroom and one bathroom.

It’s kind of cozy; and it’s not like Jason hasn’t lived in far worse places before.

Around seven pm, the time arranged, someone knocks at his door and with a smile, he goes to open it.

“Hey,” Juice says, leaning forward to kiss Jason on the lips, who lingers for a few seconds on the contact.

“Hey,” he replies, once Juice has pulled back.

“Smells good,” Juice says as Jason moves aside to let him in. He has a duffel bag with him; some overnight clothes.

“I made lasagna,” Jason tells him as he closes the door behind him.

“Oh man, I haven’t had homemade lasagna in months.”

“It’s vegetarian.”

Juice raises an eyebrow to that, to which Jason just shrugs, “one of my course mates is vegan and she’s been telling me horror stories about meat factories.”

Juice shrugs, “fair enough. I’m sure it’s delicious anyway,” he says and kisses Jason on the cheek.

Jason is charmed.

Once they’re both sitting down and Jason has put some food on each of their plates, Juice resumes the conversation.

“I’m kinda surprised you can cook, though. Since you were adopted by a rich guy,” he explains.

Jason stops with the fork halfway to his mouth, then forces himself to take the bite, slowly chewing and finally swallowing.

“We had a butler. He taught me. He didn’t want to; he’s old fashioned, said it was his job to take care of the people of the house. But I didn’t like to feel like I wasn’t doing anything, you know? Especially in the first few months, when I thought one wrong move would get me kicked out.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, thinking it through.

“That happened to me a few times.”

“What?”

“Getting thrown out of foster homes. Sooner or later, they got sick of me. I was always acting out, trying to be noticed. I guess I did want someone to stick by me, but I also wanted to push them to their limits, see how much they could take before they got sick of me,” he shrugs. “Usually it didn’t take that long.

“Though to be fair, looking back on it, I really was a little shit and most of these people had other kids to look out for. Some were real pieces of shit, and I’m glad I got out as soon as I did, but others… Like I said, looking back, I was a real piece of shit.”

It’s Jason’s turn to take a few moments to think. He remembers the first few months in Wayne Manor; hell, the first couple of years.

“I was pretty much the perfect child at the beginning. I was afraid that if I got one bad grade, yelled too much, broke a freaking vase, that I’d be thrown out. But… eventually, I started trusting that they were good people and cared for me.”

“That’s good,” Juice says, with a smile and Jason nods, decides not to tell him just how well that ended.

“How are things with the Club?” Jason asks, deciding to change the subject. Alfred, Bruce, his childhood… It’s not really something he wants to linger too long on.

“They’re good. Not much going on, really. Jax is having a kid in a couple months. Gemma’s over the moon about being a grandma, of course.”

“You guys gonna get him a baby vest?”

Juice laughs, “that’s be pretty cool, actually. A few fake tattoos too.”

Jason laughs; he can imagine that.

“This really is good,” Juice says, as he gets himself another serving of the lasagna. “You’re definitely welcome to make as many vegetarian dishes as you want if they taste like this.”

“I’ll tell Anna my boyfriend approves.”

Juice smiles at that.

“What?”

Juice shrugs, “boyfriend, I like that. Never had one before.”

“Me neither. I didn’t exactly… my life didn’t really lend itself to romance.”

“I’ve had a few girlfriends over the years, but nothing that serious. Guys… just one-night stands. The guys at the Club… I don’t think they’d care that much, maybe just old Piney, who’s stuck in the 70s, but they all joke around a lot, you know?” He laughs, surprised at something, though it doesn’t sound all that happy. “You know, what you said about being on your best behavior not to get thrown out of your new house… I guess that’s how I’ve been acting with the Club. Didn’t want to raise any waves.”

“But you’re here with me, now.”

“Yeah. I just… I like you, right? It seems stupid not to take a chance on that because I’m afraid of the what the guys might say. And I mean, Tig’s in the club and sleeping with a guy would probably be the most normal thing he’s ever done.”

Jason laughs at that, though he can tell Juice didn’t mean it as a joke.

“I like you too,” is what Jason decides to say to that.

Juice smiles back, a bit shy, and Jason thinks _“yeah, I really do”_ and it feels good.

.

It’s already late afternoon when Jason’s classes finish and he checks his phone to see he has a lost phone call from Juice, from hours before. As he walks to his motorcycle, he calls him.

Juice takes so long to answer, Jason has almost given up by then. “’lo?” He sounds like he has cotton in his mouth or something.

“Juice? Everything alright?”

“Oh, hey, Jason, how were classes?”

“They were good, thanks. Just finished for the day.”

“That’s cool,” Juice sounds tired.

“You alright?”

“Yeah, just…” he sighs, “did something stupid yesterday. Now I’m sleeping it off.”

Jason frowns. He doesn’t want to sound judgmental but he does want to know what is going on, see if he can help.

“Yeah?” He asks, in a soft tone, stopping just beside his ride.

Juice sighs again, “fuck, I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, clearly, I wasn’t thinking. I mean, who just…” He stops. “Fuck, I’m an idiot.”

“What happened, babe?” Jason asks, keeping his tone soft, though he’s panicking just a bit. He forces himself to calm down. Juice is fine; he’s on the phone with him.

“’Took something I shouldn’t have.”

Jason stops breathing, just for a second. He knows Juice smokes more than just cigarettes and that he takes pills sometimes but this…

“Did you OD?” He sounds unemotional, though he doesn’t mean to be. He just doesn’t know how else to react. He thinks of Catherine.

“No, I just passed out. The guys pranked me for it and now I’m sleeping it off.”

“Right,” Jason says, still sounding a bit disconnected from what’s happening.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jason, with your mom and… I’m an idiot. I wasn’t thinking. Fuck, what was I thinking? I don’t even know what I took. Tig just gave me the bag and then I just… took a couple pills. Who takes stuff they don’t even know what it is?”

“Do you do that a lot? Take pills you don’t know what they are?”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, which pretty much answers the question. “Yeah, at parties and… Fuck, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just… I just do these things sometimes, you know? Like there’s no voice in my head telling me to think about the consequences first.”

Jason doesn’t really know what that’s like. Ever since he lived in the streets, he’s always thought pretty much everything through. How much food did he have to eat before he passed out? How clean did he have to look before the adults around got suspicious and called the cops?

“I’m really sorry, babe,” Juice repeats himself and he does sound genuinely sorrowful.

Jason sighs and passes a hand through his face. “I’m not angry, Juice.”

“Just disappointed?” He asks and it’s obvious it was supposed to be a joke, but it flies right by that.

“No,” he says softly, then in a stronger voice, “I’m not angry nor disappointed, Juice. I’m just… I guess I am worried.”

“Yeah, I…” Juice doesn’t continue right away, and Jason just waits in silence. “There must be something wrong with me.”

“What? No. Juice, listen to me. There’s nothing wrong with you. This is just… Did you mean to hurt yourself?”

“No, of course not. I just thought it’d get me high or something. A good high, not pass out and get my clothes taken off and moved somewhere else without even being aware.”

“Wait, what?” Jason asks, feeling pretty damn worried.

“Don’t worry, it was just the guys having a laugh. They left me in a fucking adult diaper by the police station. I mean, I’d probably find it funny too if it had happened to someone other than me, but it was all in good fun.”

Jason doesn’t see it that way, but he decides not to say anything. He doesn’t think that if Juice had been in serious bad shape that his brothers wouldn’t have taken him to the hospital.

“That’s… Whatever, not important, right now. What is important is… You say you didn’t mean to hurt yourself and I believe you, OK?”

“Yeah,” Juice answers, in a soft tone.

“But just… you say sometimes you don’t think things through. But is it ever like… I don’t know, jumping in front of a moving car?”

“No, nothing like that. I’m not suicidal, Jason.”

“OK, I believe you, I was just asking.”

“I know.” A pause, “I know. It was stupid, I know it was stupid. I won’t do it again, OK?”

Jason sighs, “I don’t want you to get hurt. But I don’t want you to change for me, you know?”

“No, I know what you mean. And I’m not saying I’m not going to keep smoking and maybe taking some pills once in a while, but definitely not something I don’t know what it is. It wasn’t fun waking up not knowing how I got there.”

“OK,” Jason says, strongly holding onto the phone. “Can I come over or do you want to be alone?”

“You can come. You’re always welcome, babe.”

Jason smiles, “thanks. How about you order some pizza in about forty-five minutes? Should be arriving just when I do.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” Juice says and he no longer sounds like something died in his mouth.

Jason doesn’t hang up right away and Juice speaks again. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Jason.”

Jason doesn’t reply right away. Finally, “yeah, I know.” It doesn’t feel like enough, but he doesn’t know what else to say.

“I’ll see you in an hour, yeah?” Juice asks and Jason nods, then speaks when he realizes he can’t see him.

“See you in an hour, babe.” Then he disconnects and gets on his motorcycle.

.

A few days after that, when Jason is having some coffee before a class, Juice calls.

“Hey, babe,” he answers, smiling. He likes getting calls from Juice, likes hearing his voice.

They’ve only met a couple times since the thing with the pills; there’s stuff going on with the Club keeping Juice’s attention. Jason has been keeping an eye on it, but it doesn’t sound like anything out of the usual so far.

“Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m going to be out of town for a few days. Gotta drive up to Nevada,” Juice tells him.

“Las Vegas?”

Juice laughs, “your geography sucks. That’s south. Nah, Indian Hills.”

“Alright, club business?”

“Yeah, there’s gonna be a patch-over. Though me and Tig are gonna be late to the party; gotta drive a truck up. He’s not happy about losing the party, man.”

“Patch-over?”

“Yeah, the Indian Hills’ Devils are a brother club. Basically means we’re connected. Just gonna turn it more official now; they’ll be the Sons of Anarchy Indian Hills’ charter soon enough.”

“Alright. Maybe you’ll still make it in time for the party.”

Juice laughs, “I doubt it. We’re leaving here pretty late. Still got some business to take care of.”

“OK. I’ll see you when you get back, yeah?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Juice says and Jason can hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey, Juice?” Jason calls for his attention, waits to get a humming sound back before continuing, “if you do get there in time for the party… I don’t mind, you know.”

“That I party? I’d think not.”

“I meant… if the party turns a bit more… private.”

It takes Juice a few seconds to speak, “you mean, sleeping with other people?”

“Yeah. I’m not, really…” Jason shrugs, “I’m not a jealous person, you know? As long as you’re honest with me, I don’t mind it.”

“Jason…” Juice stops, seems to take a few seconds to gather his thoughts, “this is probably every guy’s dream, but it’s not mine, OK? I’m happy with you, babe.”

“I’m not saying you’re not. It’s not about that. It’s physical, right? I’m just saying, if the opportunity arises and you feel like it… It’s not cheating, alright?”

“Yeah, alright, but I don’t want to do that. I’m not jealous either and if that’s what you want… But it’s not what I want, alright? Not for me.”

“I don’t want other people either. I just thought I’d put it out there.”

“I’d show just how much I don’t want other people right now, but I’m still on the clock and the only semi-private room around here is Gemma’s office and she’d cut my cock off if she found it out of my pants.”

“Definitely don’t want that. I’m attached to that cock.”

Juice laughs, “well, keep feeling attached to it while I’m gone, alright?”

“Not a problem,” Jason says, smiling, realizing that he actually hasn’t stopped smiling in some minutes.

“Right, I gotta go, break’s over. I’ll see you in a few days, yeah?”

“Yeah, drive safely.”

“You got it. Bye,” Juice says and disconnects the call. Jason drinks the rest of his coffee and goes to class, smiling randomly along the walk as he remembers Juice’s words. Yeah, he’s happy just with him as well.

.

Usually, Juice and Jason just meet up at one of their places. Jason knows Juice still goes to the diner they first met pretty regularly, but he has classes every morning, so he can only make it on the weekend.

But tonight they’ve decided to do a regular traditional date: dinner at a restaurant and a movie afterwards.

They have to go out of Charming for it; there’s no cinema theater in town though the high school shows a picture at least once a month.

It’s Juice who chooses the restaurant, an Indian place, looks pretty nice but isn’t all that expensive and Jason has an interesting conversation with the waiter after finding out he’s from Adoni, where he’d spent a few months for his training, though of course what he says is that he was backpacking through India after he turned eighteen.

“You ever feel like Charming is too small for you?” Juice asks, after they’ve ordered dessert. “You’ve been all over the world.”

Jason doesn’t reply right away, taking a bite of his payasam. It’s been a while since he thought of that. He could have moved closer to the university, of course. But he’d wanted his space. And yeah, usually people in small towns can be a bit too nosy, but it was also unlike any other place he’d ever lived. He’d been curious about it.

“I lived in cities my whole life. Charming is… I like it. People say good morning to strangers and there’s groups of white ladies power walking the streets. You think I’d ever see that in Gotham? Not even in the rich neighborhoods.”

“You wanna start powerwalking?” Juice asks, amusedly, with his eyes squinted from his smile.

Jason laughs, feeling pretty relaxed. “Nah, I just meant it’s… quaint.”

“Never heard that said out loud before,” Juice says, still smiling and Jason shrugs.

“It’s all the reading I’ve been doing.”

“You enjoying your course?”

“Yeah, it’s really interesting. I mean, at least one of my teachers is a misogynist piece of shit who really shouldn’t be teaching about Jane Austen and one of these days I’m gonna pierce one of his tires, but it’s good. People are interested and it’s like… I know they’re books, most are fictional, but it’s good to be around other people who don’t just see them as stories, you know? I had a two-hour conversation the other day about religion in _Chronicles of Narnia_.

“One of my course mates is dating a Film undergrad and she says it’s the same with him. That he feels like he’s around all these people who don’t see films as just films.”

Juice nods, smiling along.

“You ever though about going to college?”

“I actually did a year of Engineering back in Queens. I liked computers so I thought I’d be good with it, you know? But there was a lot of science and reading and I just decided it wasn’t worth it. Of course, I still had to pay back every single cent of that year.”

“What about mechanics, how did you learn it?”

“Picked up a few things from foster dads, but honestly, mostly it was with the Club. They said they wouldn’t have a member who didn’t know the inside of their ride like the back of their hand. All the guys taught me something.”

“And you like it?”

“I like motorcycles better than cars. Stole one when I was fourteen, you know?”

“Yeah?” Jason asks, laughing. “I can see that.”

“Yeah, then I spent a month with my arm on a cast.”

Jason laughs some more, even though he probably shouldn’t.

“What about you? Why’d you get your Ducati?”

“I like motorcycles, because of… how easy they are to maneuver. You can get away from things you couldn’t with a car,” Jason explains, forcing himself not to think about being fourteen and Bruce teaching him how to ride one. Just for emergencies, he’d said.

“Most people mention how free they feel. But you think of it first in terms of usefulness.”

Jason doesn’t say anything right away; he hadn’t thought of it that way.

“Yeah?” He asks, not even sure just what it is he wants to know.

“It’s interesting. A good interesting,” Juice says, leaning forward with a smile. Jason smiles back and they finish eating their desserts.

Juice pays for their date, telling Jason he “can pay for the movie tickets and the popcorn.”

Once they’re outside, Jason moves to hold Juice’s hand, who immediately takes it.

They walk in silence to the movie theatre; it’s close by.

They’re not too far away when someone yells, “hey faggots!”

Juice immediately turns to them, and so does Jason. Maybe they should just walk away, but he doesn’t doubt for a second that they can take care of whatever problem this ends up being and, anyway, it’s been a while since Jason got into a good fight.

“We don’t want your kind in this town!” The same guy yells, two of his friends yelling encouragements.

Jason moves stretches his neck, right, left. “Let me take care of this, yeah?” He asks, putting a hand on Juice’s chest.

Juice studies him for a few seconds, then smiles and says, “sure thing, babe.”

“If I were you, I’d go home while you still can,” Jason says to the guys, who start laughing.

“You think you some hot shot? Uh, you faggot?”

“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Jason says and then he’s rushing towards them.

He punches the one who did the talking in the face, probably breaking his jaw from the way he drops on the floor and starts groaning. Another guy he knocks out with a punch to the face and the last he just knees in the balls.

“Well, that was just sad for you,” Jason says and turns back to Juice, who has both eyebrows raised.

“That was pretty badass,” he says, when Jason is close enough for them to hear each other without yelling. “And hot.”

“I’m telling you now that there won’t be any type of shenanigans at the cinema.”

Juice laughs, probably more at his usage of the word _“shenanigans”_ than anything else.

“Wanna skip the movie, then?” He asks, pupils a bit dilated and Jason smiles.

“Yeah, actually. We can come back another day.”

“I like the way you think,” Juice says and then they’re walking away from the theater.

.

It’s around eleven pm when Jason’s cellphone rings. He smiles when he sees Juice’s name in the visor; he hadn’t been expecting his call, considering it was Jax’s son homecoming party.

“Hey,” he says when he picks up, in a warm tone.

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, though Jason can hear him breathing. Alarm bells immediately start ringing in his head and Jason gets up from where he’d been sitting at his dining table, doing some research for a paper.

“Juice? What’s wrong?”

He hears Juice take in a deep breath before answering, “it’s… it’s Donna. Ope’s wife. She’s… she’s been killed.”

“Fuck,” Jason says. It isn’t like he’d ever met her, or even Ope, but he knows about them. That Ope had just been home for a few months after five years in prison. And how they have two kids.

“Someone gunned her down,” Juice says and he sounds heart-broken. “Why would anyone do that? She was… she was good. She never did anything wrong, not… not like this.”

“Do you want me to pick you up? Or to go to you?”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, then he breaths out noisily. “Yeah, please. I’m… I’m at home.”

“OK, I’ll be there in just a few minutes. OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be right here.”

“OK,” Jason repeats himself and then hangs up, only grabbing his wallet, keys and helmet before he’s out the door, locking it in a hurry.

Juice doesn’t do well by himself, especially when he isn’t feeling great, and this is definitely one of those situations.

It takes him less time than usual to arrive at Juice’s house.

He knocks a couple times in quick succession, for the first time wishing he had a key.

Juice opens the door after a few seconds. He has a cigarette in one hand and red-rimmed eyes.

“Babe,” Jason says and immediately goes to hug him.

Juice doesn’t cry, but he clings fiercely at Jason, though making sure he doesn’t accidentally burn him.

After a few seconds, Jason pushes back, going inside so he can close the door behind him. As he leads Juice back to his living room, he keeps a hand on his lower back.

Juice pretty much just throws himself on his couch. He puts his elbows on his knees and leans forward, hiding his face in his hands, cigarette still in one. Jason takes it from him and puts it out on the ashtray. Then he sits down beside him and starts rubbing circles between his shoulder blades.

He leans forward to kiss Juice’s head, on one of the tattoos.

“Fuck,” Juice says. Then he breathes noisily, one deep breath in, one out, seeming to shake himself a bit out of it. He keeps his head on his hands but turns it so he can see Jason. “Were you asleep?”

“No, I was just doing some research. And even if I had been sleeping, you should still have called me.” He puts a hand on Juice’s cheek, who closes his eyes at the contact. “I always want you to call me when you need me.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away. Then he exhales deeply again. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Jason leans down so he can put their foreheads together. Not exactly a comfortable position for his back and neck, but he ignores it.

He waits for Juice to be the first to lean back.

“Do you want to go to bed?” Jason asks and Juice shakes his head.

“I feel tired but I think it’ll take me a while to fall asleep. If you want to leave…”

“I’m staying,” Jason tells him, decisively.

“Thanks,” Juice says and leans back on the sofa, so his back is touching it, and then moves so his head is on Jason’s shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”

Jason kisses his head tattoo again. “I’m always here for you, OK? You don’t have to thank me. Just like I know you’re here for me.”

“Yeah,” Juice grabs his hand and kisses him on his knuckles. “I am.”

Jason doesn’t say anything in response to that, instead just leaning back on the sofa himself, so that they’re more comfortable. He kind of wants to talk about it, doesn’t want Juice to get caught up in his thoughts. But he was the one who knew Donna, who knows Opie, so he’ll let him set the pace on whether he wants to talk or not.

In the end, they just stay silent for a very long time until Juice finally gets up and leads them to the bedroom.

.

Jason doesn’t see Juice again until after Donna’s funeral. He goes to have dinner at his place and when Juice opens the door, he knows right away something is wrong.

“It’s okay,” he says and goes inside, closing the door behind and hugging Juice.

“You don’t even know what’s wrong,” Juice says, clinging fiercely to him.

“But I know you and I know that face. Something bad happened.”

Juice laughs, brokenly, “you’d think that wouldn’t be possible after the past two days.”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that, doesn’t have anything to say. Juice never knew Donna that well, but he liked her and she was a good person, who definitely didn’t deserve to die the way she did.

It doesn’t take long before Juice is pulling away. “I just made some spaghetti with tomato sauce.”

“It’s alright,” Jason puts both hands on Juice’s cheeks, looking him in the eyes as he talks, “it’s not about the food. It’s about being here, with you.”

Juice smiles, but it’s still not real. Jason leads him to the living room, bypassing the set table and sitting Juice down on the sofa, and then sitting down himself, leaning one of the arms, so they can look at each other without getting a crick in their necks.

He doesn’t say anything right away. He’s pretty sure Juice wants to talk; Jason doesn’t mind waiting. Juice only starts speaking after he’s lit a cigarette and taken a drag.

“You never… you never asked any questions. About the Sons. What we do. I know… There’s lots of rumors flying around; you said it yourself, months ago.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say. He probably should have expected this, but he hadn’t found a way to bring it up yet and he’d thought it would take a lot longer for Juice to do it, if ever.

He wonders how much to say, how much he wants to play stupid. He knows exactly what the Sons do, but he can’t say it without explaining just how he got that information. Why it was important to know before he moved to Charming.

“Yeah,” he finally settles on, “I know you’re more than just a bunch of mechanics who like to wear matching vests.”

Juice frowns, looking down at his feet. “I knew… I knew some stuff before I became a Prospect. And I knew pretty much everything by the time I got patched in. I went in with my eyes open, you know?” For that, he raises his eyes to Jason’s. Then he gets up, starts pacing, keeps smoking.

“But there’s lines, you know? Maybe it’s dumb to think there were some lines we wouldn’t cross, but… There are. Or there were. And I mean, they weren’t crossed. Jax stopped it,” Juice looks Jason in the eyes, and he’s crying. “But I didn’t. I’m a coward. Maybe… I mean, the guys definitely wouldn’t have listened to me, but I could have still tried, you know?”

Jason gets up, “Juice, you’re not making any sense.”

“You know… You know Bobby got arrested for murder, right? And they… there was a witness. They got her in protection and the plan was to…” He doesn’t continue, so Jason finishes for him.

“Kill her.”

“Yeah,” Juice nods. “We didn’t know who it was until yesterday. When the case was open to the public.” He takes a deep breath, then another drag from the cigarette, ash falling onto the floor. Jason knows how much he hates that, how he’s going to be vacuuming the whole place the next day. “She was seventeen, Jason.”

“Was?” Jason asks and can hear how cold his voice sounds. “You said Jax stopped it.”

“Yeah,” Juice nods, several times in quick succession, “he did. She is seventeen.”

Juice breathes out noisily and then goes to sit back down on the sofa. He puts his cigarette out, lights up another one.

Jason gets up, though he doesn’t start pacing, just goes to the counter separating the kitchen from the living room and leans back on it, crossing his arms.

“You knew she was seventeen.”

“Not… Not when we planned it. But that shouldn’t make a difference, should it? Twenty, thirty, forty years old… that was still a person we planned to murder. For Bobby.”

“Who murdered someone.”

Juice nods. Jason sighs and passes a hand through his hair.

“I know everything the Sons do, Juice.”

Juice frowns, looking at him questioningly. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I know they… you, run guns.”

Juice stares at him for a few seconds. “Are you… an undercover cop?”

Jason laughs, not amusedly. “No, I just did some research before I moved here.”

“That’s not your normal type of research. And they’re not results that show up in Google.”

“No, they’re not,” Jason says. Juice is just staring at him. “I was… When I was in Gotham, I killed a lot of people. They were all gangsters and criminals and believe me, some were real scum of the earth, I don’t regret it at all, but some were probably just… Trying to feed their family, following orders. And it doesn’t… it doesn’t erase what they did, but fuck, to those families I’m the bogeyman, ain’t I?”

Juice keeps staring at him. More ash falling onto the floor; he doesn’t seem to notice.

Jason doesn’t say anything else. He won’t say it feels like there’s a weight off his chest, but it does feel good to be honest about his past.

“Why did you move here, Jason? For real,” Juice asks, staring at him seriously. Jason isn’t used to being looked that way by Juice, who’s usually the first one to crack a smile.

“I needed to leave. I couldn’t be in Gotham anymore. It was… destroying me,” he puts a hand over his heart, “inside. And there was nothing left for me.” _No family_ , he thinks, remembers that Bruce preferred to cut him with a fucking batarang than let him kill the man who killed his son. No, not son, just some fucking child he took off the streets to mold into being the perfect sidekick.

“Fuck,” Juice lowers his head to his hands, passing them through his head. “We’re a fucking pair, uh?”

Jason does that little laughter non-laughter again. Then he goes to sit back down by Juice.

“When I arrived… I did think about starting it again. Kill you guys. But then I’d have to kill the Niners and the Mayans before they started a gang war. Probably the Nords too, but to be fair, I’d do that just for the fun of it.”

Juice laughs, “fucking Darby.”

“Yeah, fucking Darby. But anyway, then I just… another gang would just crop up. Maybe not right away, but soon enough. And you guys… I’m not saying you’re the lesser of two evils, but you could definitely be worse.”

“You still sure about that?” Juice sits back up straight, not taking his eyes away from Jason’s.

Jason sighs again, “I don’t know who’s right anymore. All I know is… I’ve looked real evil in the eye, Juice. Someone who…” He clenches his hands into fists, remembers the Joker, Ethiopia. The fucking clown hitting him with a crowbar over and over again, laughing maniacally.

“Hey,” Juice calls him back to reality, holding one of his hands. He puts the cigarette on the ashtray with the other, not bothering to put it out. “You’re here, not there.”

Jason inhales noisily. “Yeah, I’m here, not there,” he repeats and it does help. He’s not there. He’s never going back there, not ever. “Anyway, like I said, I know real evil, and you’re not that. Not at all,” he puts his hands on Juice’s cheeks, “you’re good.”

Juice smiles and kisses Jason on the lips.

“You’re good too.”

Jason feels his eyes getting wet. He wants to say _“no, I’m not”_ but keeps the words locked in his throat. Juice knows the truth. Maybe not all, but some of it, and he isn’t running.

He hugs Juice and this time he’s the one holding on for dear life.

Then he really does start crying. Ugly loud sobs tear his way from his throat.

And through it all, Juice just holds him, kisses his head, makes soft noises and promises him everything will be alright.

Finally, Jason gets himself under control and disentangles himself, wiping his eyes with a hand. He doesn’t exactly feel ashamed, but he does feel exposed in a way he’s not used to.

“I’m sorry, I-”

“Hey,” Juice doesn’t let him say anything else, grabbing the hand that was on his face and kissing his knuckles. “You don’t have to apologize to me. And you don’t have to explain yourself. I’m here for you, OK? For however long you want me to.”

“Yeah? What if I never want you to leave?”

Juice shrugs, “then I guess I’m never leaving.”

Jason smiles and leans so that their foreheads are touching. Then he closes his eyes and breathes out, slowly, calming down.

“Thank God I’d already turned off the stove,” Juice breaks the silence and Jason laughs, this time for real.

“Yeah, thank God for that.”

But they still don’t move, just keep holding onto each other. Jason doesn’t want to let go anytime soon and it seems like Juice feels the same way.

.

Things are calm after that. Juice tells him Ope is going away for a while, needs some space to make his peace with Donna’s passing.

They’ve just finished having dinner at Jason’s place – he actually cooked – when Juice gets up from the table and goes to his duffle bag on the corner of the living room, where a change of his clothes can be found. He already has his own toothbrush in Jason’s bathroom, but the clothes aren’t migrating as fast.

He takes something out of it – a book.

Jason raises his eyebrows, “is that the _Picture of Dorian Gray_?” He asks, surprised.

“Yeah,” Juice nods, a bit shy, “I got it after our second date.” He shrugs, still looking self-conscious, “you got me curious about it.”

Jason doesn’t know what to say to that. He knows Juice isn’t much for reading, the fact that he decided to start a book just because Jason talked about it…

“What did you think about it?” He asks, a bit choked up.

“It was good,” Juice sits down at the table, in front of him and Jason can see the book has clearly been manhandled. There’s post-its coming up off the pages. “I underlined my favorite parts, though I also bought a hardback, which I’m not writing on, I promise,” he passes Jason the book, looking nervous, like Jason is going to judge him based on what he enjoyed.

Jason riffles through the pages and for a second, he feels like Juice has given him a part of himself, even though the words aren’t his. But while there are passages that he remembers, that he too highlighted – on his Kobo, because he’s incapable of writing on a book – there are others that didn’t make as much of an impact on him, like _“My elder brother won’t die, and my younger brothers seem never to do anything else.”_

His breath gets caught in his throat as he reads the highlighted _“Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic”_ and his vision gets blurred at _“It often happens that the real tragedies of life occur in such an inartistic manner that they hurt us by their crude violence, their absolute incoherence, their absurd want of meaning”_.

He passes a finger through _“Each of us has heaven and hell in him”_ and he finally closes the book, slightly over halfway through. The fact that Juice chose these quotes for himself and not for Jason makes them all the more real.

“I kind of hate Henry,” Juice says, bringing Jason’s attention back to him.

“Because he manipulated Dorian?”

Juice frowns, “I don’t think he did. At least, not fully. Dorian still made his own choices. No, just in the things he said. Some of them, anyway. Like when Sybil killed herself and he said her death was beautiful, because she’d done it for love. It wasn’t beautiful at all. It was just sad.”

Jason looks at Juice in silence for a few seconds, remembers that Sybil Vane was an innocent seventeen-year-old girl who took her own life. It’s been weeks since their conversation about the witness in Bobby’s case, and the fact that Juice is clearly still thinking about it… It makes him good.

“I love you,” he says and Juice looks surprised. He smiles, taken off-guard.

“Because of Sybil?”

“No, because you read the book just because I talked about it. And not just read it, but paid attention to it, tried to… I don’t know, find what talked to you in it. And yeah, that you still remember Sybil and just… because you’re you. I love you for being Juice.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, then he smiles and puts a hand on top of Jason’s, still on top of the book. “I love you too. Because of the way you talked about this book and how you’ve made me happier than I think I’ve ever been.

“You’re like… A missing piece in my life I never knew wasn’t even there in the first place. Yeah, I could have gone on living without it, but now… I just don’t want to.”

Jason moves his hand so that he can interlace their fingers.

He knows exactly what Juice means. Romance has never been a part of his life; he remembers imagining a family when he was a kid, having his own kids, but in the same way he remembers dreams after waking up. He didn’t think it was on the letters for him.

Yet… Yet here he is, with Juice. He doesn’t want to be without this either.

“I want you to meet the guys,” Juice says and Jason raises an eyebrow, “right now things are still… not great, but once they’ve calmed down. You’re important to me and so are they. I’d like you to meet them and for them to meet you.”

Jason nods and smiles, “I’d like that too.”

“Just… Tig is absolutely going to say something dirty or creepy. Try not to take it too seriously.”

Jason laughs. “I can’t wait.”

Juice leans on the table and pulls their hands to himself at the same time, kissing his knuckles.

“I’m glad I met you, Jason.”

“Yeah,” Jason smiles, “me too.”

.

Jason is reading in bed when his phone rings and he quickly accepts the call when he sees it’s Juice.

“Hey, how you doing?”

“Hey,” Juice says and then is silent for a few seconds. Then he sighs, “not good. Chibs’ on his way to the hospital.”

“Shit, what happened?”

“Officially? He messed with things he shouldn’t have in the garage.”

“And unofficially?”

Juice doesn’t answer right away, “unofficially, there was a bomb in the car he was towing.”

“Shit,” Jason says, sitting up. “You know who?”

“Not one hundred percent, but we’re pretty sure. Zobelle.”

Jason frowns, “where have I heard that name before?”

“He’s new in town, just opened a cigar shop.”

“Why would he be going after you guys?” Jason asks, still frowning, wheels turning in his head.

“Because he’s with the League of American Nationalists.”

“Shit. White supremacists?”

Juice laughs, not amused. “They call themselves separationists.”

“Shit,” Jason repeats.

“They make Darby look cute by comparison.”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that; suffice to say it’s shit.

“You OK?”

Juice sighs, “they already went after one of our own inside Stockton. But we were divided on whether to retaliate right away, so we decided not to. I got to hear the spiel from both sides.”

“What did you want?”

Juice is silent for a few seconds, “I’m the information guy, you know? I told the guys what they needed to know about the League, about Zobelle. But I’m the one who had to dig through all that shit. And it’s… Did you know there are almost thirty white nationalist organizations just in the US in the Wikipedia?”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that; that’s just the official organizations, if you go by the smaller groups, the gangs… he has no doubts the list would be much larger.

“And it’s just getting worse. ‘Cuz Obama got elected and suddenly all these disgusting pieces of shit think no one gives a fuck if they come out of their hiding spouting their disgusting racist shit. And people believe them! And it’s not… it’s not like the Club is perfect. They have a “no-blacks” rule. But this is… Fuck, yeah, I wanted retaliation right away. I wanted to hurt them.”

Jason doesn’t reply right away. Finally, “I can make it happen, if you want. I know the Club has been having problems with the Feds, and they’re about to get worse with this bombing. I can take care of Zobelle and his gang.”

Juice makes a noise from his nose, like he can’t figure out if he’s supposed to be inhaling or exhaling. “You… you’d do that?”

Jason smiles and it’s not pretty. “Yeah, been a while since I cleaned house.”

Juice is silent for a few seconds, until finally, “no, I don’t want you to do that for me, Jason. You… Look, what you did in Gotham, I don’t judge. And if you decided to do the same here… I don’t know what I’d feel about it. But I don’t want you to choose this because of me. Yeah, Zobelle is a piece of shit but I don’t know if I could have that on my head. You killing all those people for me. That’s… that’s heavy, you know?”

Jason doesn’t say anything right away. He can see where Juice is coming from and it just makes him love him more. Not the fact that he doesn’t want those guys killed, but the fact that he doesn’t want Jason to kill them and then for it to become a problem between them.

“The Club is going to take care of it,” Juice says, sounding more serious than usual.

“OK. Just… call me if you need me, OK?”

“Yeah. Anyway, I’m guessing I’ll be busy for a few days so I’ll see you when this is over, yeah?”

“Of course. I love you,” he says, smiling, and he can hear that Juice is smiling too, that he isn’t as stressed as when he first called.

“I love you too.”

“And hey, Juice?”

“Yeah?”

“They’re wrong. Those pieces of shit… They’re all wrong. And I’m sorry you’ve had to be reading that shit.”

Juice is silent for a few seconds, then, “thanks.”

“Of course,” Jason says and after a few more seconds of silent, just listening to each other breathe, Juice disconnects.

Jason leans back on the headboard, not even thinking about going back to his book. Instead, he gets up and goes to power up his computer.

He’s going to respect Juice’s wishes about retaliation, but that doesn’t mean he won’t find out more about the League. And anyhow, there are other ways to destroy someone than just to kill them. Jason smiles; he’s going to have some fun with these assholes.

.

After Juice calls him from Stockton Prison, Jason puts an alert on his name, making sure that whenever his name shows up on anything official, he knows about it.

Despite the fact that they’ve talked about Jason meeting the rest of the Sons, right now none of them know of his existence, which means that if something happens to Juice, it’ll be a long time before the news get to him.

He can’t let that happen.

And he turns out to be right, when not even a whole day in prison and Juice gets stabbed. Once he’s stable, he’s moved to Stockton General and Jason is there first thing in the morning, uncaring on whether his brothers – who made it out of prison on their own two feet – are there or not.

The nurse who tells him Juice’s room number looks slightly scared of him, unsure how to react to his presence and Jason doesn’t blame her. He hasn’t slept in the past two days and he honestly doesn’t know who he hates more at this time: the Aryan Brotherhood who decided to stab Juice, Zobelle for making it happen or the Sons who didn’t stop it.

He enters Juice’s room a bit as a hurricane, almost throwing the door into the wall, but stopping it on time.

“Hey,” Juice says from the bed, clearly tired and looking worn-down.

Jason doesn’t say anything as he crosses the room in a few quick steps and immediately leans down, hands on Juice’s cheeks to kiss him.

They keep their lips closed, but Jason passes all his passion, love, fear and even anger through it. He feels one of Juice’s hand move through his hair, while the other is on his cheek, squeezing and letting go.

“Hey, I’m OK, I’m OK, it didn’t hit anything vital,” Juice says when Jason stops kissing him, though he’s still leaning their foreheads together.

“You got stabbed,” Jason says, not knowing why he’s stating the obvious, but not being able to stop himself.

“I know. Babe, I know, but I’m OK, I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you.”

“I know,” Jason sighs, “I know. I’m just… I got scared.”

Juice nods against his head and Jason leans on him for a few more seconds before finally letting go and sitting on the bed, by Juice’s waist.

“How did you find out?” Juice asks, frowning.

“After you called from prison, I put an alert on you. Got any official info sent to my phone. Good thing, otherwise who knows when I would have known.”

“I was gonna call you,” Juice says, putting a hand on his cheek. “I just woke up. ‘Was a bit disorientated and all.”

“I know, I don’t blame you. I just… when you called from prison, I realized that if something were to happen to you, I’d probably be the last to know.”

“Not for long, OK? Things are all over the place right now, but afterwards, yeah? You’ll meet the guys. Get to be my old man,” Juice says, and his mouth can’t seem to decide whether it wants to smile or to laugh.

“Fuck that,” Jason says, knowing he’s making a reference to how the wives or girlfriends of the members get called old ladies. “I’m no one’s old man, and definitely not my boyfriend’s. You’re older than me, anyway.”

Juice laughs, “I figured. Though I don’t know by how much. How old are you, Jason?”

Jason’s face closes down at that. Suddenly, he’s having trouble breathing, has to force himself to calm down.

“Jay?” Juice asks, clearly worried and that… that nickname doesn’t help in the least.

“Don’t… Don’t call me that.”

“OK, OK, babe, I’m here for you,” Juice kisses him on the head.

Jason keeps breathing noisily but it eventually slows down.

“I’m OK,” he finally says. “Sorry, I…” He doesn’t know how to continue. He can’t believe he freaked out over something so simple. Just a mention of his age.

What the fuck is he supposed to answer? His fake papers, because obviously his official still say he’s a dead man, state he’s twenty-three but how is he even supposed to count it? He spent months dead, and then one year basically in a coma and it’s not like he did a lot of emotional growing or whatever with Talia and all his teachers.

“It’s OK, I’m sorry I asked.”

Jason laughs, not happily. “You’re sorry you asked my age? I’m the one with the… the stupid trigger.”

“Hey,” Juice says and once he’s made sure he has Jason’s attention on him, he shrugs, “I don’t judge, remember?”

“Yeah,” Jason says and leans forward to kiss him again. This time, it’s not desperate at all. It’s comforting and reminds him of everything he isn’t anymore. “I’ll… I’ll tell you one day, OK? Just not today. You need to rest, anyway.”

Juice smiles, putting both hands on Jason’s cheeks, “you don’t have to force yourself to tell me anything you don’t want to, OK? I trust you and I know that what you keep to yourself… You do it for you. You’re allowed your own secrets and your own limits.”

Jason nods, kisses Juice’s right palm. “Thank you.”

Juice shrugs, “no need to thank me. I love you, remember?”

“Yeah,” Jason smiles. “I know. I love you too.”

“Good. Now, why don’t you jump into bed with me and we can have a little nap?”

Jason laughs, “that’s not usually what you say when you want me in bed with you.”

“Give me a break, I just got stabbed,” Juice offers him a large smile, like it’s barely a chip on his shoulder. “I’ll give you all my best pick-up lines tomorrow.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jason says and Juice mumbles something about “you better” and then he laughs and does as told, carefully maneuvering around Juice, to make sure he doesn’t get hurt.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Jason,” Juice says, once they’re laying side by side, Jason’s arm around him.

“I know,” Jason says and moves his head to kiss Juice just above his ear. His hair is already starting to grow. He laughs, “when you leave the hospital, you’re going to have a full head of hair.”

“I’m cutting it the minute I get out of here,” Juice promises and Jason makes a considering noise.

“I dunno, you might look cute.”

“I’m a Son. I’m not cute,” Juice refutes, making Jason laugh again.

“You prefer sexy? Handsome?”

“Yeah,” Juice nods, “I’m OK with all those. But not cute.”

“Alright,” Jason leans to kiss him on the neck. “To be fair, I do think the tattoos are sexy as hell.”

“It’s decided, then,” Juice turns to look him in the eyes, smiling, “I’m cutting it off when I’m out of here.”

“OK,” Jason says and kisses him on the lips, a quick one. “Now, get some rest.”

“Aye, aye,” Juice says and immediately closes his eyes. It doesn’t take all that long before his breathing has evened out and he’s fallen asleep. Jason just keeps watch over him.

.

Juice tries to convince Jason not to skip on classes to be with him at the hospital, but Jason knows being alone will just drive Juice crazy so he accepts going to his morning classes, but decides to leave just before lunch so that they can spend the afternoons together.

He hasn’t met anyone from the club yet, though Juice tells him they’ve been around. So it comes as a surprise when on the third afternoon, when he’s started reading _Pride and Prejudice_ to Juice, a cough comes from the entryway.

Jason goes to remove the hand he has on top of Juice’s on the bed, but Juice just squeezes it, making sure he can’t let go.

It’s a woman in her fifties, pretty gorgeous. And sending quite a clear vibe of “you don’t want to fuck with me.” Jason likes her right away and has no doubt in who she can be: Gemma Teller-Morrow, the matriarch of the Club.

“Gemma,” Juice says, with a smile.

“Hey, baby,” Gemma says, flashing Juice a quick smile, but turning her attention almost immediately back to Jason. “And who’s this?”

“Gemma, this is Jason, my boyfriend. Jason, meet Gemma.”

Jason gets up so that he can shake Gemma’s hand. She looks surprised, but not all that much.

“It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says and Gemma raises an eyebrow, looking him up and down.

“Yeah? Well, I haven’t heard anything about you,” she turns to Juice. “I’m guessing you were keeping him a secret from us and not the other way around.”

“Nah, it’s…” Juice starts and then sighs. “Yeah, kind of. I just… Didn’t know how the guys would react, you know?”

“Well,” Gemma starts and smiles at Juice. Jason keeps his attention on her. “You just got stabbed, so if they start any shit over it, they’ll be in trouble with me.”

Yeah, Jason definitely likes her.

Gemma moves in front of Jason so that she can reach Juice, bending down to kiss him on his forehead. “I’m sorry I couldn’t come earlier, sweetheart. Things at the garage have been busy and with Chibs also laid down…”

“I know,” Juice assures her, “don’t worry about it.”

Gemma pats him on a cheek. “When you’re both home, we’re gonna throw one hell of a party. And you,” she turns on Jason, eyebrow once again raised. “You’re going to be the guest of honor. And the guest of honor can’t miss, you get it?”

Jason smiles, “it’ll be my pleasure.”

Gemma nods, “alright,” she turns back to Juice. “How long this thing been a thing?”

Juice’s eyes grow, like he’s been caught unaware. Then he turns his attention to Jason. “I haven’t been keeping count. Have you?”

Jason laughs and shakes his head, “no, but I met you before classes started. So it’s going on at least six months.”

Juice raises his eyebrows, “I think you’re my longer relationship.”

Jason laughs, “back at you, babe.”

Gemma rolls her eyes, “boys.” It makes Jason smile. She turns back to Juice, “well, I just wanted to see how you were doing and you seem to be in perfectly good hands.”

“Thanks, Gemma,” Juice says, smiling softly at her.

“I’ll come back in a few days, OK? You call me if you need anything.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Juice promises with a nod. Gemma nods back at him and then walks towards Jason. She touches his chest with a pointy nail.

“You hurt him; I’ll make sure they never find your body.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Jason says. He might be a harder challenge than what she’s used to, yet he has no doubt she’d find a way to make true on her promise.

She nods and goes to the door. There, she turns back to them, “you be good, boys,” then she smiles and leaves.

Jason goes back to sit by Juice’s side. “Well, that was…”

Juice laughs, “yeah, she’s something, right?”

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, we all do. She’s like… the mom of the group. And once she accepts you as one of her own… she’s never letting go. Honestly, out of the whole Club, she was probably the one I tried the hardest to like me.”

Jason puts his hand back on top of Juice’s, squeezing. “I doubt that was hard at all.”

Juice smiles at him. “Come on, I want to meet Mr. Bingley.”

Jason laughs and picks the book back up.

_“To be fond of dancing was a certain step towards falling in love; and very lively hopes of Mr. Bingley’s heart were entertained.”_

.

A few days later, Juice finally gets to go home and he and Jason take a cab to his house.

“Shit, I have cleaning to do,” Juice says after unlocking his door, making Jason laugh behind him.

“How about you wait a few more days?”

“I’m fine,” he turns to Jason and smiles. “I am fine.”

“OK,” Jason says, “I trust you. Now, how about I order some food? Pretty sure everything in your fridge has gone bad.”

Juice makes a disheartening sound as they move to the living room. “I was looking forward to that leftover Chinese.”

Jason laughs at that, “is that what you feel like?”

“Yeah,” Juice drops on the sofa, making a slight noise at the impact. “Some noodles sound great.”

“You gotta it, babe,” Jason says and kisses him on his head – all hair still there – before he gets his phone out and orders the food.

“I could get used to this,” Juice says once Jason’s put the phone away. He makes a questioning sound. “The pampering.”

Jason goes and sits beside Juice. “I should probably say something cutting right about now, but I don’t want to. I like pampering you.”

“Yeah?” Juice says and smiles. “That all you like?” He leans in for a kiss, quickly turning it hot and heavy. He moves so that he’s straddling Jason.

“I missed you, baby,” Jason says, in between kisses.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Juice promises and that’s all the talking they do for a while.

When the doorbell rings, Jason has to get up and pick up his clothes from the floor, making sure he’s halfway decent as he grabs his wallet to pay for the food. It isn’t long before he’s back in the living room, a bag full of food in one hand.

“How’re things with the Club?” Jason asks, after they’re both sitting down with plates full of food and a beer each.

Juice sighs, taking a sip of his. “Not good. Bobby and Jax came by. Jax wants out of the charter; wants to go Nomad. Has to be a unanimous vote.”

“What did you vote?”

“I voted yes,” he shrugs, “if Jax wants to leave… I’m not going to be the reason he stays. Maybe some distance between him and Clay will be good. Shit’s been getting heavy between them for months.”

Jason nods, though he doesn’t really have anything to say. Juice has told him enough about the guys that he’s pretty sure he’d be able to recognize them on the street even if he hadn’t already memorized their faces, but he hasn’t actually met them yet. He doesn’t really care one way or another, as long as it doesn’t blow back on Juice.

They talk and eat. Jason tells Juice about his latest assignments, and they even talk about going somewhere for a few days, maybe for a weekend.

Eventually, all the food is gone and Jason is on his third beer, though he didn’t let Juice have any other; he’s still on pain meds.

He’s feeling comfortable. So he decides this is a good as time as any.

“When I was sixteen, I died,” he suddenly tells Juice, whose face seems to be struggling on what emotion to show.

“What do you mean? Like… for a couple minutes? You had some accident?”

“No,” Jason says and keeps looking him in the eyes. He wonders if Juice will even believe him. “I was murdered by a clown with a crowbar.”

“What?”

“He beat me up and then he had the place blown up. I died and I got buried.”

“What?” Juice gets up, starting to pace the room. He passes a hand through his hair. “What do you mean? How can you… How can you have been buried? You’re here. Alive.”

“I don’t know how. One day I just… I woke up inside the coffin. It’d been months. I had to… I had to force myself out.”

“Jesus Christ,” Juice says, staring at Jason.

“I didn’t remember who I was. I was catatonic for a while. Just some John Doe in the hospital. Then I got a bit better and lived on the streets, but still with no memory. I could… feed myself. And fight if I was jumped, but that’s about it. And then… I was found and… I got help, I guess,” he frowns. “I’m probably telling all this wrong.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away. “Why would… you were sixteen, why would some clown murder you? Just for the fun of it?”

“He didn’t know me as sixteen normal kid,” Jason says, staring Juice in the eyes. “He knew me as Robin.”

“What?” Juice asks, moving so that he’s holding onto the back of his chair with both hands.

“Batman’s sidekick.”

“Batman’s a ghost story. No more real than area 51.”

“He’s real. And I worked with him… For him, for years. And then I got tricked and was murdered because of it.”

“Jesus,” Juice passes a hand through his hair, “what the fuck?”

“I don’t know how to make you believe me.”

“I don’t… I don’t have any reason to doubt you, Jason. I mean, maybe you’re crazy or maybe you have been lying to me all these months, but I don’t think so. I trust you. So if you say this is the truth… I trust you.”

Jason feels himself tearing up. He gets up and goes to hug Juice, who doesn’t hesitate for even a second before hugging him back.

“I love you,” Jason says, kissing him on the neck, just below his ear.

“I love you too,” Juice says and they stay like that for a couple minutes. Finally, Jason leans back, wiping his eyes with a hand. “You said you got help.”

Jason laughs, not amused. “Yeah, Batman… This might be the craziest part of the story, I don’t even know. Basically, a crazy rich assassin chick is obsessed with him and once she found out I was alive, she decided to train me to kill him.”

“That’s fucked up,” Juice says and Jason laughs again, this time just a bit amused.

“You don’t know the half of it.”

“So that’s when you started wiping gangsters in Gotham?”

Jason nods, “yeah, came back about five years after being dead. And Batman… See, I had this plan, dramatic as fuck. He never killed the Joker, you know? This fuck killed his son and Batman let him live.”

“Batman’s the one who adopted you?” Juice asks and Jason remembers that he’s smart, that he knows he was adopted by a rich guy and might find out Bruce’s identity. And then he realizes he doesn’t owe him shit and doesn’t give a fuck.

“Yeah. So anyway, the cleaning up the streets was just to get his attention. Then I got the Joker and I gave Batman a choice. I told him I was going to kill the Joker. Or he’d kill me first.”

“You’re here,” Juice says but he doesn’t sound all that confident. He knows this story doesn’t have a happy ending.

Jason touches the scar on his neck. “He shot off a batarang, got me off balance. Saved the Joker’s life. I can… I can understand not wanting to kill him himself. I mean, I can’t, but it fits his holier than thou attitude. But actually harming me instead of letting me kill the bastard that murdered me?” Jason shakes his head, “I couldn’t stay there after that. I felt like… It was going to kill me. I felt like my days were counted.”

Juice grabs his cheeks with both hands. Then he kisses his forehead, “I’m glad you got out. And I’m glad you chose Charming to live in.”

“Yeah,” Jason leans in so that their foreheads are touching, still feeling the warmth of Juice’s fingers on his face, rings and all. “I never expected this when I first moved in. You, I mean.”

Juice laughs, “you think I expected falling in love with this random guy who asked if he could sit at my table while I was having breakfast? Fuck no. But I’m so fucking happy you did.” He kisses him, fiercely. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” Jason says and they both move in for another kiss, a bit desperate.

They make their way to Juice’s room, barely stopping the kissing while they get their clothes off, though Jason makes sure to be careful with Juice’s side. They keep muttering soft nonsense into each other’s mouth and Jason isn’t ashamed to admit he cries a bit as he hears Juice telling him over and over how much he loves him. How he’s made him the happiest he’s ever been and how he’s so, so glad he’s alive.

Jason… Jason can’t remember the last time he actually felt happy to be alive. But feeling this, with Juice, it makes him realize that yes, he is happy. He still doesn’t know what in hell brought him back to life, but for the first time it does feel like it was for something. Not for revenge, not to be some kind of vigilante and definitely not for Batman, but for this. To meet Juice, to fall in love, to feel happy and secure and so fucking hopeful in a way he’s never felt before.

He’s not planning on ever letting go.

.

Shit gets real soon after. Juice calls him with the news; Jax isn’t leaving the charter because they now know that Zobelle had Gemma raped and they’re going after him.

Jason has met Gemma and he liked her, but even if he hadn’t, that shit still wouldn’t fly with him. So when Juice asks him if he wants to go to the club for lockdown – that Gemma offered it – even though she’s currently the only person connecting the two of them, he of course says no, and instead sticks to Juice as a fly.

He follows the Sons as they get into a fistfight with a bunch of neo-nazis, watches through the scope of a rifle as Juice gives as good as he gets; though it’s obvious a person with some skill could put him down, deciding that he needs to give him a few lessons.

Then he follows them back to the club, to the police station as they await what happens next, watches Zobelle come out and get a royal escort back to town.

Jason isn’t sure how to feel when he sees the two MCs doing pretty much what consists of a modern cowboy draw-up, with the cops in between, trying to keep the peace. That type of shit would never fly on Gotham.

He’s half tempted to just go inside and put a bullet in Zobelle’s head; no one would cry, but no one would thank him either. It’s personal and he gets that.

Then he follows the gang to the highway, when they lose Zobelle but the Mayans also decide that they’re not going to try and stop him from dying anymore. Finally, the bastard meets his end at a deli. Jason will give him that; it’s smart, hiding in plain sight, surrounded by kids. It’s also cowardly as hell, but it’s obvious why the guy survived as long as he had.

Still, the Sons have patience and eventually fill him up with holes.

He wonders what will happen next. They did it in broad daylight, though he doubts anyone will be willing to testify, and guns are easy to get rid of. Still, he can’t help but to be happy that Juice wasn’t one of the guys shooting at Zobelle.

He’s back at his place when Juice calls him.

“Hey, it’s taken care of,” he says, sounding serious.

“I know. I’ve been following you for the past two days.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, then he makes a half-throated laugh. “That’s creepy, you know that, right?”

Jason shrugs, “I promise only to do it when your life’s at stake.”

“OK, that is a bit romantic. But I don’t think it cancels out the creepiness.”

“I can live with that, if you can.”

Juice sighs, “it doesn’t suck completely, knowing I have a guardian angel.”

“I knew you’d see it my way. So, lockdown’s over?”

“Oh yeah, there’s going to be a hell of a party. You coming?”

“You want me to?”

“Yeah, I think it’s more than time that you met the guys. And Gemma really will keep them in line; everyone’s afraid of her.”

Jason laughs, “I can see that.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jason answers and Juice disconnects. Jason grabs a random book and forces himself to pay attention to the words. Even though he didn’t actually do anything, he can still feel the adrenaline rushing through his veins.

He knows that for the Sons this is done. They don’t care about the League as long as they stay out of Charming. But Jason remembers how heartbroken Juice sounded about it and it makes him want to ruin them one by one.

He has been feeling bored lately. He imagines Bruce finding out about this, his precious second child contemplating mass murder out of boredom and can imagine the disappointment, the arrogancy of saying there’s only one way to do things.

Jason will give him one thing: killing someone changes you. Yet, the fact that Bruce has just stood by as the Joker keeps killing people…

Jason might not kill the men in the League, but he’s going to make sure their lives are a living hell. And the Joker… he still has a pretty good bank account. Should be more than enough for Deathstroke or Deadshot or some other assassin to get the job done.

Talia would do it too but he also knows she wouldn’t do it for money and that’s someone he definitely doesn’t want to feel indebted to.

He doesn’t remember a single word out of the two dozen pages he read, but he finally gets up and goes to get ready, first a shower, then selecting his clothes with more attention than usual, though not by much.

The party is in full swing as Jason walks through the gates to the garage, having decided to leave his motorcycle outside; knowing it wouldn’t pass musters for these guys.

The music is loud, people are laughing and there are a bunch of fires going on around the place. He looks around, trying to find Juice, but the first person who sees him is Gemma, surrounded by other women. She waves him to come closer.

Once they’re in touching distance, she gives him a half-hug, kissing him on the cheek. “Hey, I’m glad you could come.”

Jason shrugs, “Juice invited me.”

“About time he did,” she looks him up and down, “you nervous?”

He smiles, “I can take care of myself.”

She smiles back at him, nodding, “I don’t doubt it. Still, you ain’t got nothing to be nervous about, you hear me? The guys mock and rib, but… it’s all a big family.”

Jason studies her for a few seconds, before finally saying, “I ain’t got the best experience with that.”

Gemma studies him back, then she smiles, a bit predatorily, “why do you think we made our own?”

That makes Jason genuinely laugh. Damn, does he like her.

“Well, here comes your man,” Gemma says, nodding to someone behind him and Jason turns, looking at Juice as he slowly walks towards him.

Jason doesn’t go to him or do anything as he approaches; this is Juice’s territory and he’ll follow his lead. But Juice doesn’t stay away, instead putting a hand on his lower back and kissing him on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m really glad you could make it,” he says to Jason, with his thousand-watt smile. It’s not even a conscious decision to smile back; it’s just what one feels like doing when being in the receiving end of so much happiness.

“Come on, let’s go meet the guys,” Juice says, pulling him forward by the hand on his back. Jason turns back to tell Gemma he’ll see her later, but she’s already having another conversation, though she gives him a confident smile. Jason doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the women, most looking confusedly at him.

Juice leads them to a picnic table, close to a boxing cage.

There are five guys siting there, who all stop talking when Juice approaches. One, a blond almost too pretty to be real, raises an eyebrow in a manner that just screams Gemma and Jason knows who he is right away.

“Hey, guys,” Juice says, and Jason can feel his hand trembling just a bit on his back. He leans back reassuringly, “I want you to meet Jason, my boyfriend. Jason, these are my brothers,” he points to them as he says their names, “Jax,” the pretty blond, “Ope,” big guy with a cool beard, “Bobby,” has a serious beer belly going on, “Chibs,” Glasgow smile, “and Tig.” Jason doesn’t know what to make of him, but he knows he’s one to watch out for.

“I always knew you were gay,” is Tig’s first comment and Juice laughs, clearly relieved.

Jason shakes all of the guys’ hands, and no one tries to squeeze harder than they have to.

“We ain’t ever had an old man before,” Jax says, still with a smile reminiscent of Gemma, and sounding just a bit challenging. He’s basically a male version of her, really.

“That you know of,” Jason says and just for a few seconds the guys stare at him, surprised. Then they laugh.

Before anyone can say anything to that, another guy joins them, probably the youngest of them, with Prospect written on his vest.

“You must be Half-Sack,” Jason says, offering his hand for a shake. The guy takes it without hesitation, but he’s clearly confused on who he is.

“Shit, Juice, you talking about other guys to your boyfriend?” Jax asks and Half-Sack’s eyebrows raise at that but that’s all.

“He’s told me a lot about you guys,” Jason says, turning back to the table.

“Yeah, well, we’ve never heard of you before,” Tig says, looking him in the eyes and Bobby says something to try and diffuse the situation, but Jason just shrugs.

“What you wanna know, man?”

Tig smiles, not prettily, “who takes it up the ass?”

“Why do you have to be like this?” Juice asks while the rest of the guys say something not all that different, but Jason just smiles.

He leans into Tig’s space, “how about you and me go into that cage? You win, I’ll tell you.”

The guys are surprised at that but Jason keeps his attention on Tig, who looks him up and down before nodding and getting up.

“Sure.”

“Hey, what happens when he loses?” Juice asks, clearly not worried, though the guys send him looks like he’s a bit crazy for asking.

“How about this,” Jason says and steps forward, once again being in Tig’s space, “the next time someone tries to stab Juice, you get in front of that knife.”

It takes a second, but Tig grins at him. “I like you. You got balls. But you’re still gonna lose.”

Jason just laughs and takes off his jacket, passing it to Juice. He’s just wearing a T-shirt underneath and he knows he has a lot of scars on show. Tig takes off his cut and then the shirt underneath, showing that he has a few scars as well, plus tattoos.

“After you,” he says, and Jason goes and gets inside the cage. People start paying attention, though he doesn’t really care.

He’s been feeling like a fight for ages and some other guys might try and take it easy with him, for Juice, but not Tig. He’s gonna give as got as he gets, though he’s about to get an unpleasant surprise.

Maybe showing off in front of the whole club isn’t the best idea, but Jason wants them to know that he doesn’t mess around.

“Where you from, kid?” Tig asks, as they start rounding each other up.

“Gotham.”

“Shit, man. Is it as bad as they say?”

Jason smiles, showing off his teeth. “Nah. It’s worse.”

Tig laughs and then it’s off.

Tig doesn’t pull his punches, immediately going on a hard offense, forcing Jason into a defensive posture, but after making sure his punches only go to his arms, he starts attacking him, quickly. For an old guy, Tig is good, clearly ex-armed forces.

But Jason started training under Batman when he was twelve. Then with the League of Assassins and a bunch of people that, honestly, make the Sons of Anarchy look about as dangerous as a hamster.

Finally, Jason has Tig on the floor, one arm around his head and he’ll give him that; he doesn’t go down easy. It takes until he’s almost purple in the face before he finally hits the floor several times with his hand, asking for the fight to end. Jason complies immediately. He wasn’t trying to kill the guy, after all.

“Shit,” Tig says as he passes a hand through his throat. Jason gets up and offers him a hand up, which Tig takes. “They really breed you differently in Gotham.”

Jason nods. If only he knew.

“You good, kid. ‘Dunno what the fuck you see in Juice, though.”

“It’s not really up for you to see, is it?” Jason asks, with a raised eyebrow.

Tig shrugs, “guess not.” He studies him for a few seconds. Jason can see the guys asking Juice questions, who is just smiling along. “Message received.”

Jason nods; he knew Tig was smart and he’d get it: something happens to Juice and there’ll be hell to pay.

“Come on,” Tig puts an arm around Jason’s shoulders, “let me buy you a beer.”

“I’m still not telling you who tops.”

“As if I already don’t know.”

“You’d be surprised,” Jason says, laughing at the incredulous look on Tig’s face. “Besides, don’t tell me you’ve never been there, done that before.”

Tig shrugs, unapologetically, “I’m a curious guy.”

Jason laughs again and then they’re out of the ring. He nods to Juice as he passes him by, but decides to let Tig do as he offered, letting him lead him inside the clubhouse.

They both have beers in hand when Jax joins them.

“You good,” he states.

“He’s from Gotham,” Tig says, like that explains it and, in a way, it does.

“There were conversations about setting up a charter there a few years ago. But Gotham… it’s a whole different field.”

“Yeah, it’d eat your guys alive,” Jason says and although neither Tig nor Jax look happy about the statement, they don’t argue either.

Jax claps Tig on a shoulder and that seems to be a clue for the guy to leave them alone.

“Juice’s never brought anyone around before.”

Jason just makes a humming sound.

“You’re good in a fight and you seem smart so I’m not gonna beat around the bush: how’d you feel about prospecting for the club?”

Jason laughs. He kind of saw this as an option, but he didn’t think Jax would come right out and say it, not this soon. Then again, maybe he really does know that there’s no point in beating around the bush with Jason.

“Why’d you want that?”

Jax raises both eyebrows, silently asking _“why wouldn’t I?”_

“My first loyalty would always be to Juice. If it came between him and the Club… I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Jax shrugs, “you don’t know us. You might come to think of us as family.”

“I don’t do well with family,” Jason says and while with Gemma, it was about offering a part of himself, building trust, with Jax it has a dangerous tone underneath it. Before Jax can say anything, he continues, “you guys got Juice stabbed in prison. And I know it was Club business and hell, I even know Juice would do it again, if it meant one of you guys didn’t have to be stabbed. But see, thing is, I know Juice would do it for you, ‘cuz you’re Jax, and Bobby because he’s Bobby and all that. But you… would you do it for him or just because he’s a brother?”

“Can’t they be the same?” Jax asks, acting all nonchalant but Jason sees the hard look in his eyes.

“Believe me, it makes all the difference in the world,” Jason says and after a few seconds, Jax nods.

“Alright. Well, if you ever have a change of heart…”

“I know where you guys are,” then he shrugs, “and you might see me around more.”

Jax studies him for a few more seconds, and then he smiles. “We’d like that, man. I get that you might not think the best of us, but Juice is family. And if you’re with him, you’re family too.”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that, just nods.

“Come on, before your boy thinks I made a pass at you.”

Jason shrugs, “he’s not worried.”

Jax sends him a look at that, like he’s reassessing him, and then they move back outside.

There’s a new guy at the table, older, and Jason doesn’t even have to see the president tag on his vest to know who he is.

“Clay,” he offers him a hand to shake, cigar in the other.

“Jason,” he replies and shakes his hand.

“Heard you beat up Tig. Not an easy thing to do,” he’s studying him.

Jax snorts, “save it. I already asked and he’s not interested.”

Jason shrugs, “I have to focus on my studies.”

“So, you’re smart too,” Tig says and then turns to Juice, “seriously, you got a magic dick or something? How the hell did you land him?”

Juice rolls his eyes but he looks a bit unsure, so Jason goes to him and pecks him on the cheek. “Maybe I landed him.”

Tig rolls his eyes while the guys laugh. Juice is feeling pretty relaxed next to him and so is Jason.

This is definitely not where he thought he’d be just some months ago, but damn, is he glad of it.

.

They sleep in late the next morning.

Jason is the first to wake up, not surprisingly. Juice is sleeping on his stomach, snoring, though not heavily.

Jason moves so he’s on his side, passing a hand through his mohawk – ticker than usual – and it isn’t long before Juice is making some awakened noises.

He opens both eyes, “’morning.”

“Hey,” Jason says and kisses him on the mouth, lips closed, because morning breath is a real issue.

“What did you think of the guys?” Juice asks, still not fully awake, though he starts drumming a rhythm with his fingers on the pillow.

“Alright. Gemma is still my favorite.”

Juice laughs, “she’s everyone’s favorite.”

“Well, my favorite aside from you, of course,” Jason says and Juice smiles softly at him.

“Did Jax really ask you if you were interested in joining the Club?”

“Yeah,” Jason nods.

“And you said no?”

“Pretty sure you’re not supposed to be more loyal to one member than another. And baby, I’d always choose you.”

Juice smiles, softly and amazed, and Jason is pretty sure it’s the first time someone has ever told him that. It’s not exactly a feeling Jason knows well either.

“I mean it, Juice. You ever need me… You just call. It doesn’t matter what it is, I’ll help you. Leave the Club, get out of prison… You call me and I’ll be there.”

Juice doesn’t say anything right away, then a noise leaves his throat, like a man who was drowning getting his first full breath of air. “Thank you.”

Jason just smiles. Juice puts a hand on Jason’s cheek, who closes his eyes at the sensation just for a few seconds.

“I might not be as badass as Batman’s Robin, but the feeling is mutual, you know? I’ll always be here for you too.”

“I know,” Jason says and he does. Trust doesn’t come easy to him, probably left him sometime when he left the hospital after being born, but he does trust Juice.

Juice, who has never asked questions when Jason didn’t want to talk about something, who never asked for anything, just offered all he had.

He thinks back to their conversation months before, about _“to define is to limit”_ and thinks _“what a bunch of bullshit”_. Defining he’s in love with Juice hasn’t limited it at all. Instead, it’s opened up a whole new world of possibilities.

Jason has no idea what the future holds for them, but he does know they’ll face it together.

He’s looking forward to it.


End file.
